Scenting Hallowed Blood (42 page)

‘I wish you’d told me about the
twins before,’ Enniel said, a little lamely.

‘Why?’ Sofia shrugged. ‘To be
honest, the Winters really are insignificant in the scheme of
things.’ She sat down on the leather sofa. ‘They’re very upset by
all that’s happened, so I thought it best to keep them away from
the centre of operations. They’re staying with a friend of mine
nearby, quite safe.’

Daniel hoped Enniel would not
accept this glib explanation, and was gratified when he asked, ‘So
when exactly did you
come across
the twins? The last we knew
they’d been abandoned in London, at the mercy of some rather
sinister characters.’

Sofia was not ruffled by the
question. ‘Well, they were of no use to the people who were looking
for Shemyaza, and were, in effect, overlooked. All I did was, on a
hunch, send a couple of my people up to London the following day to
sniff around the Assembly Rooms. Lily and Owen were still there —
terrified and confused — but unharmed. I must admit I felt sorry
for them. I think Lily Winter has had more than enough of the
shenanigans that follows Shemyaza around. She begged me for peace
and quiet, and I was happy to help her.’

Daniel knew that most of what
Sofia said was untrue. He longed to relate, in a cool and cutting
manner, all she had said to him concerning Salamiel and the twins.
He wanted to expose her completely, and force her to answer probing
questions from Enniel, but he was afraid. If she’d been cagey about
Lily and Owen, he would have felt more confident. But it was as if
she was daring him to initiate combat. Daniel had no doubt that, if
he did, he’d only incur terrible retribution. So he kept quiet, and
had to endure the sense of triumphant smugness that emanated from
her mind. Still, he was fairly sure Shemyaza wasn’t with Salamiel
and the twins. In that case, Sofia’s explanation seemed reasonable.
He
had
gone off alone, either to fulfil his destiny or to
escape it. Unless the woman had taken him somewhere else. Daniel
couldn’t see past her psychic armour to determine that. He realised
he had to accept he could do nothing at the moment. As soon as was
able, he’d attempt to make contact with Lily. Perhaps if he had an
ally, he could find a way to penetrate Sofia’s armour.

Enniel’s staff spent the whole
morning searching the coastline and surrounding countryside for
Shemyaza. Most of the Parzupheim had stayed overnight at High Crag,
and the two who hadn’t lived relatively nearby and could be
recalled immediately. At noon, Enniel convened another meeting, and
Daniel was required to relate to the Parzupheim all that he had
seen that morning. He elected not to mention the argument he and
Shem had had the night before.

The Parzupheim seemed
suspicious of Daniel, as if he was responsible for Shem’s
disappearance. ‘You assume too much of his mantle for
yourself.’

Daniel endured this accusation
without comment, because he did not want the Parzupheim to know
that Shemyaza had tried to pass responsibility to him.

Another spoke up. ‘Perhaps you
drove him away.’

As this tallied with Daniel’s
punishing thoughts about the quarrel, he was suffused with a sense
of paranoia. His voice faltered. ‘It’s not my fault! There was
nothing I could do.’

‘As his vizier, it was your
duty to be alert for him, to help him at all times.’

‘So, you were
asleep
at
the time Shemyaza left the house?’

Daniel felt as if he was
fighting for breath. ‘I thought he was sleeping too.’

‘Ah. I see. And, in the garden,
he just
disappeared
before your eyes?’

‘I
told
you,’ Daniel
said miserably. ‘It looked like he jumped from the cliff, but when
I ran to the edge, there was no sign of him. Anywhere!’ As he
listened to his own voice, Daniel came to the quiet conclusion that
Shem wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity in a physical sense.
Regardless of his suspicions concerning Sofia and her true role in
Shemyaza’s development, he had seen, with his own eyes, Shem plunge
into astral flight, and it appeared he had taken his earthly flesh
with him. That could only mean he’d entered the dreamtime of the
serpent... surely?

Sofia watched him through
slitted eyes, although she deigned to make little contribution to
the debate. Daniel heard himself become increasingly defensive,
which inspired certain members of the Parzupheim to spice their
attack with ever more causticity. A few, including Enniel, rallied
to Daniel’s defence and suggested that the Parzupheim’s attitude to
Shemyaza the previous day might have impelled him to act alone.
This remark provoked a hot retort, and soon several seated around
the table were blaming each other for Shem’s disappearance.

Daniel, still under attack from
another quarter, couldn’t prevent himself from raising his voice.
‘None of you know what the hell’s going on!’ he yelled. ‘You with
your stuffy rituals, legacies and histories! That’s all you care
about! It’s all you have, and believe me, it doesn’t mean anything!
It doesn’t relate to what’s happening now!’

His words conjured a silence,
until one voice broke it with sarcasm. ‘We are lucky to have such
an expert among us.’

‘Shem’s gone,’ Daniel said.
‘He’s gone down to the underworld.
It’s all started
and you
don’t even know it.’ Feeling these words were poignant enough,
Daniel rose with dignity and left the room. His heart was pounding
with fury and fear, but he managed to keep haste from his steps. He
could feel Sofia’s eyes boring into his back, and sensed her
grudging approval.

Once free of the meeting room,
he fled out into the garden, hid himself away in an arbour and
surrendered himself to tears. He wept for Shem, he wept for
himself. The past hour had only convinced him that what Sofia said
was right. Shem had gone to face the serpent alone. Daniel was
filled with a sense of hopelessness and impotency. ‘Shem, Shem,
where
are
you?’ he murmured into his hands. ‘How could you
leave me here with them? Why aren’t I with you?’

Lily felt as if she’d been
staying at Pharos for weeks rather than just a few scant days.
She’d already grown fond of the house, and the wild landscape
around it. Salamiel had told her that soon she’d be reunited with
her friends, but Lily no longer really cared. She enjoyed spending
time in Salamiel’s company and knew that, if she’d wanted to, she
could seduce him. It was clear to her that he found her attractive,
yet he did not push his attentions upon her. She sensed his
reticence was due to simple respect. He liked to hear her stories
about Shem, so she told him as much as she could remember of what
had happened in Little Moor. Just to tease him, she even described,
in graphic detail, the sex she’d had with Othman. Salamiel,
however, listened with a scientific detachment.

In the afternoons, Salamiel
often sought Lily’s company. Usually, she was to be found in his
library, not because of the books especially, but because of the
smell of the room, and the way its dark walls played with the soft
light that spilled through the window. Nina brought piles of garish
magazines into the house, which Lily liked to browse through, but
on the day that Shem disappeared, something impelled her to lay out
her scrying stones on the baize-topped desk beneath the window. She
wished she could read them properly. When she threw them down,
significant patterns seemed to occur; Marmoset next to Zahtumuzgi,
with Tarturophane nudging close. That must mean something surely,
but what exactly? She could impose at least three interpretations
on the result, but which, if any, were appropriate?

Salamiel came into the room,
and stood behind her chair. He looked down at the stones with
interest. ‘So what does the future hold?’

Lily shrugged, moved a few
stones with her fingertips. ‘I don’t know. I wish I did.’ She
explained about how Johcasta used to read the stones. ‘I can
remember all of their names, but I just can’t understand their
meanings.’

Salamiel made a soft purring
sound of interest and scooped up the stones in one long-fingered
hand. Carelessly, he cast them onto the baize. ‘There. It is
simple. A time of great change is indicated.’ His hand skimmed the
stones. ‘And here, the frenzies of lust and greed.’ He grinned.
‘Perhaps that is Sofia. What do you think?’

Lily frowned up at him. ‘Have
you done this before?’

He smiled at her. ‘No. I don’t
need to have done. You told me enough about them for me to scry.’
He gathered the stones up again in his hand. ‘The secret is to let
them speak to you. They might not mean the same thing twice. You
have to let their personalities come through.’

Lily grinned. ‘Will you teach
me?’

‘Of course.’ He sat down on the
edge of the desk.

Lily couldn’t help being more
interested in the fall of his red-gold hair and the way the wan
winter light softened his features than in what he was trying to
tell her about scrying.

He is very beautiful,
she thought.
They are all beautiful. I would like to make love
to every Grigori in the world.

As if he’d caught her thought,
Salamiel paused and looked into her eyes. It was a long moment. He
reached out as if to touch her face or hair.

The door to the library crashed
open. Lily jumped and looking up, saw Sofia framed in the doorway.
She looked feral and dangerous. Salamiel’s hand sped discreetly
back to his lap. ‘Sofia! What is it?’ From her entrance, it was
clear something had occurred.

‘A private word, my dear,’ she
said in an icy voice. ‘Now.’ Before Salamiel had even risen from
the desk, she had left the room.

Lily watched him follow Sofia
into the hall. Hopefully, Shem was already beginning to run rings
round them. She didn’t want him to be taken in by Sofia. As this
thought formed in her mind, she was suffused with the presence of
Daniel. She shivered. It was as if he’d passed like a spirit
through her body. The contact was brief, but it left a sweet
feeling in its wake. Lily took a deep breath.
Daniel.
She
closed her eyes and relaxed, hoping that he was trying to contact
her, but all sense of him had vanished.

Salamiel was gone only about
five minutes. When he returned, he was alone, and his face was
creased with worry. ‘What happened?’ Lily asked him.

He shook his head. ‘Azazel has
already gone into the underworld.’

‘What?’

Salamiel walked to the window,
stroking his chin with one hand. ‘That is what Sofia has told me.
There is a furore at High Crag because Azazel was missing this
morning.’ Lily intuited that whatever Sofia had told him, he didn’t
totally believe it. ‘I’m not happy about this. He should be with
me. I should be by his side when he faces the serpent.’

Lily had already questioned
Salamiel about Shem’s tasks, although she still wasn’t entirely
sure whether the serpent was a real beast that could be touched or
a spiritual being. ‘Is he in danger?’

Salamiel sighed and took her
hand. ‘The serpent has the potential to be used for good or evil.
It represents the creative force or building blocks of the
universe, which is dualistic. Come, sit with me on the couch and
I’ll try to explain.’

Lily was happy to let him lead
her away from the window.

‘When Grigori work magic, we
utilise god forms to empower our rituals,’ he said. ‘For example,
Ahura Mazda, a god of light, and his dark counterpart, Ahriman. You
know, of course, that Azazel, as Peverel Othman, worked with
Ahriman.’

Lily nodded, and shuddered.
‘Yes, I can remember him being dark.’

‘The truth and the lie. Well,
when the serpent is awoken, the destiny of this land depends upon
which frequency the Shamir adopts in its unleashing. If Azazel’s
heart is true, and he is a channel for light and truth, then that
is what the Shamir will carry into the land. But if he is not, then
the land is doomed.’

Lily felt faintly sick.
‘Salamiel, Shem isn’t ready. He really isn’t.’ There was a note of
panic in her voice. ‘He’s not the light.’

Salamiel stared at her steadily
for a few moments. ‘Then we must send the light of our love out to
him, wherever he roams, and trust it will find him, give him
strength and clarity.’

When Emma heard of Shem’s
disappearance, it affected her more than she’d have believed.
Unable to stay in the house, she put on her coat and walked down to
the nearest village. She had an idea that Shem might have gone
there. Perhaps it reminded him of Little Moor. With her hands
thrust into the deep pockets of her overcoat, she walked down the
steep road that led to the heart of the village. There was a
strange, tense atmosphere to the place, almost as if the
inhabitants had some inkling of what was going on at High Crag.
Needing cigarettes, Emma went into the local post office. It was
very similar to the shop she’d once run in Little Moor; dingy and
dusty. There was a vast array of goods on sale, many with packaging
that was old and fading. Two other women were in the shop, one of
whom was being served by the post mistress. The customers were
typical of the kind that used to frequent the post office in Little
Moor: elderly women, stout of girth, in drab heavy coats and
knitted hats. Emma wandered over to a rack of pale pink and cream
birthday cards and flicked through them dispiritedly. The customer
and the post-mistress were gossiping in low voices. How familiar
this scene! Only a few short months ago, Emma had been a raddled
crone, squatting on a stool beside her daughter’s counter, idly
chatting with whoever came into the shop. It was hard for her to
believe she’d ever lived like that now. She sensed a silence behind
her and turned round. All three women were looking at her: an
everyday reaction to strangers in a small community. Emma stepped
forward. ‘Hello, twenty Silk Cut, please.’